Memoria
by Nia Irial
Summary: You may outlive it, but the past never truly dies. / A companion piece to Siege of Gods, featuring scenes from the characters' pasts.


Once upon a time, he had everything.

The trouble with having everything is you don't want to lose it. You'll protect it. At all costs. At any cost. Too late, you'll realize the price you paid was all you wanted to protect.

Too late. It's always too late.

* * *

The light from the early morning sun spilled into the room, making the highlights in her hair shine golden. The freckles on her pale cheeks stood out in sharp relief, and he couldn't help but count them. A universe on her skin.

Perhaps feeling his stare, her eyes fluttered open, long lashes brushing those dotted cheeks. Ariadne smiled when she saw him, a smile like warm syrup. "Good morning," She craned her neck toward the window. "It is morning, isn't it?"

He leaned close, catching a kiss as she turned back around. She placed a hand on his jaw, scratching lightly on his skin. "It's morning," he tried to steal another kiss, but she turned her head away with a soft laugh.

"Joel, you should be up by now. What will the other officers think?"

He placed a tentative hand on her swollen belly, rubbing a loose circle with his thumb. "That I decided to sleep the day away with my beautiful, wonderful wife."

She eyed him with a playful gaze. "Tempting, but I will not be the reason for your demotion. You've come too far for that now."

Joel sighed, ducking his head to rest on the warm skin where her shoulder met her neck. "I leave again in a few hours."

Ariadne placed a steady, stroking hand on the nape of his neck. "Gods be with you, that you come back to us."

"Ever since you told me, I'm terrified I'll miss it. I want to be here when he's born."

Her voice was quiet. "There are still months left, my love. And if you do, we'll still have all the time in the world."

* * *

Joel leaped to the forest floor, the taste of blood and dirt in his mouth. Gods, he wanted to watch that witch burn. Snarling, he crawled toward the closest prone form, his armor clanking with theirs as he threw an arm around them. He fought to turn them over, his muscles crying out.

Adonis. He swiped the grime from the boy's face as best he could, praying it would reveal some sign of life. The boy's eyes were rolled back, glowing white. Joel's heart lurched. Too young. He'd been so young.

He tried to get his bearings. Adonis was down. Brant was down. Krysta was...gods knew where, after that explosion. Back pressed against the cutting edges of a boulder, Joel licked the blood from his lips and prayed to Lux. Then he raised his voice.

"Even if you kill me, the Order will only keep coming for you. They'll hunt you like the bitch you are."

There was a beat of silence, shuffling. From the sound, she wasn't moving very quickly. Injured, perhaps. He smiled.

If she was injured, her voice did not give it away. "Go ahead and taunt, soldier. It's all you are good for, that and cannon fodder."

Joel clenched his jaw. Rushing her blindly would not go over well, no matter how much he wanted her dead. "Tell that to your fallen friends."

"Tell them yourself."

It happened too fast. She was in front of him, blasting him away with raised and smoking hands. All he was able to see was a flash of red hair. Next thing he knew, he was smashed into a tree. Well-worn boots drifted in and out of his hazy line of sight. The taste of blood grew more pungent.

She lowered herself to his level, peering at his busted and sweaty face. Her hair was indeed red, braided back from her face. She looked like she wanted to kill him, but she spoke to him instead. "Count yourself blessed, soldier. My mistress has shown me this fight, and your survival. Go home to your wife. Go home and thank Mortabela for your sorry life."

* * *

He went home and raged. Not even Ariadne could console him. As the funeral pyres burned for his lost brothers and sisters, Joel made them a promise he would destroy the Gifted who stole their lives.

It was a promise he couldn't keep.

* * *

He spent weeks tracking her. It was obsessive - even he could see it, but this was a thing he could not let go.

The next time he found her, she was surrounded by other Gifted. He watched on, but she was untouchable. She turned toward his vantage point and smiled. He learned her name was Sybil.

Later, he thought he could smoke her out with the burning of a Gifted village. He stood with the torch as if to say _this is for you._ As payment, she nearly took out his right eye. But she still did not kill him.

Their fourth meeting was pure chance. The Avatar had sent him and a few others on a reconnaissance op to Testroyva. Imagine his surprise when he learned she was holed up in a lake-bordering village known for harboring such kinds of heretics. He waited until she ventured off on her own, an empty basket in hand.

He grabbed her from behind, a hand wrapped around her throat. Slamming her into a tree was no small feat; she stood tall enough to look him directly in the eye.

"I told you," Joel kept his voice low and even, "We'd get you."

Sybil's eyes were wide, and he could feel her heart pounding, but she did not make a noise. She did not beg for her life.

Instead, she placed a hand on his temple and closed her eyes. That's when the flashes started. Images coming at him, overwhelming. Not just images. Feelings, sounds.

A baby born; tiny and red, it cried in his hands. Fire, the flames hot and devouring all around him. Ariadne laying face down on the floor, a pool of blood spreading out around her. _You have to kill me_. Running, yelling, hiding. Tears, scalding hot down his cheeks. A girl, his daughter, grown - she looked just like her mother. She was vomiting hot blood, a sword stuck through her middle. _Why did you let us die, why did you kill us_

Joel wrenched himself away from the red-haired witch, the burning sensation of sickness clawing up his throat. His chest heaved. "What -what did you do to me?"

Sybil stayed where she was, fingers rubbing at the bruises on her neck. "I showed you your future."

He whirled on her, loosing his sword. "Filthy witch, it was an illusion."

Her gaze flicked to the weapon in his grasp. "I could have killed you a long time ago. I didn't. I wanted to give you a chance to save your child."

His eyes burned hot. "Why?"

Her voice grew to a whisper. "Because I couldn't save mine."

* * *

Ariadne gave birth to a daughter. Joel held her in his hands, so small and fragile and perfect, and his heart broke.

* * *

 ** _A/N:_** I know what you're all thinking - what in the blue blazes is crazy-ass Nia starting another story for. Well, in my defense, I mentioned I might do this a while ago. It's that spin-off piece about the Siege of Gods characters' pasts! Yay, right? I hope.

This was surprisingly therapeutic to write; I don't know why. It was like there was absolutely no pressure, and I just...wrote. For fun. That's probably why it's on the shorter side as well.

So, who should I do next? Are there any referenced past events you've been itching to see elaborated upon? If so, please tell me in a review. Also. tell me if you want to see Cressida's tragic backstory continued. It would probably go up to the point she's dragged back to the Order as a young child.

What do you think of her parents? Sybil?

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this and the new Siege of Gods update. Until next time, my pretties!


End file.
